Page 22 of Defiant
A groan came from outside my car, and I realized that I’d left the doors locked. After I hit the unlock button, Jaz was able to crawl in, shooting me a look as she did so. She held her bag on her lap, the lean body I knew she had hidden by a coat. Her long black hair was wild, wavy, her cheeks just a bit red from the cold.
Fuck me from here to Sunday. She really was too pretty. Honestly, I hated it. I hated it so much.
It wasn’t the same with Jazmine as it was with Celeste. Celeste was a child, having been kept away from the world for five years. I could tell just by being around Celeste she did not view things as a normal person should, did not react to things the way she should’ve.
Jaz wasn’t like that. She was bold, loud, and she never took no for an answer. She was spunky and pushy, and I frankly never knew what to say to her or how to respond to her. She was…she was just different. Jaz and Celeste couldn’t have been more unalike.
“You saw me coming,” she huffed. “You could’ve unlocked it before.” Jaz reached for her seatbelt, clicking it in. “If you want to talk at the diner, we can, but not for long. I told my mom I’m staying in the choir room with a friend to practice for our next concert, so I can’t stay all night.”
I said nothing, driving us off. It would be best to go to the diner anyway, I think, someplace public. Someplace where I could put a table between us, where there would be eyes and ears on me, forcing me to hold back.
Not that I wouldn’t hold back if we were alone…it’d just be harder.
As I pulled us out onto the road, Jaz added under her breath, “You think you could drop me off after? My mom’s car kind of broke down…she should get a quote to fix it today, but we might not be able to afford it right away.”
Car troubles. Something most people in this town didn’t have to worry about.
Instead of telling her that, sure, I could drive her, I asked, “Why not ask Oliver Fitzpatrick for a raise? Hell, I’m sure the man has half a dozen cars your mom could use until hers is fixed—”
“She’s his maid, not his wife,” Jaz deadpanned, and even though I shouldn’t, I felt a small smile form on my face.
Damned girl.
It was a moment before I was able to stifle the smile and say, “Fine. I’ll take you home.” When I was back to frowning, something that felt normal on my face, I added, “But don’t expect me to pick you up every day after school. You’ll have to figure out something else after today.”
“Oh, damn it, there went my plans for the rest of the year,” she muttered, clearly being sarcastic. “Here I thought I’d get to spend more time with you, get to see your handsome face every day and bug the shit out of you, too.” Jaz shot me a smile. “How am I doing today? Am I bugging you yet?”
She was in far too good of a mood, considering what happened not too long ago. Ew. She didn’t think we were close now, did she? We weren’t friends. We weren’t buddies. She was still technically my employer—and the subject of another case of mine, though she didn’t know it…and she never would. Spending any more time with this girl than I had to was inviting chaos and disaster to my front door.
Not again.
No more repeats of what happened three years ago.
When I said nothing, she said, “Clearly, I’m not quite there yet.”
I continued to stick to my silence as I drove us to my favorite little diner, the only bright spot in this otherwise shitty town. It was very reminiscent of an old-timey, fifties diner, with the red leather booths and stools, along with the decor on the walls and the checkered floor. It didn’t look like it belonged in Midpark, but maybe that’s why I liked it so much.
“I can’t believe you’re really going to wait until we’re sitting in a booth before telling me why you emailed,” Jaz muttered, unclicking her seatbelt as I parked the car. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, it was good timing because I needed a ride, but my mind is racing with possibilities, you know?”
Her mind would probably only race more, once this meeting was over and she knew my past with the Fitzpatricks. Who knew? Maybe she wouldn’t want me on the case anymore, maybe she’d view me as some sort of suspect, too.
We got out of the car, and I might’ve slammed my door a bit harder than necessary. Jaz left her bag in my car, looking bundled up in her coat as she moved around the car’s front to stand near me. I stared at her, wondering what the hell I did in a past life to get such a shitty life this time, trying to rack my brain and figure out what I was supposed to do with her.
Things with Jaz were muddled, confusing. Her hiring me, me having to keep an eye on her and report everything I found to Mr. Anonymous, and the whole Dante thing…why did it all seem so centered around her? What was it about Jaz that threw everything topsy-turvy?
My jaw set as I led her inside, taking the same booth I did with her during our first meeting, back before I knew who she was, how integrated into her life I’d become so quickly. The waitress came and took our order; Jaz only got a water, but I ordered a Coke and a burger, needing something.
I should tell her about Dante, because the thought of him being someone she knew, someone she possibly didn’t want in her life anymore, nagged at me. No, I’d look him up tonight, see what I found out.
Getting him into Midpark…I could do it, theoretically, but I didn’t want to do either if it meant Jaz would be hurt. She’d already been hurt enough lately.
Look at me, trying to be some savior. It was worth a laugh or two.
She worked to unzip her coat, shrugging it off her shoulders. She wore a plain shirt, one that dipped a little too low on her chest—I had to fight my gaze, stop it from automatically dropping there once her coat was off. “So,” Jaz began, leaning forward on the table, “what did you find out? Don’t keep me in suspense.”
I moved my gaze to the windows beside us. The entire front of the diner was a wall of clear glass, allowing me to stare hard at my car just outside. “There’s…it’s not something I found out,” I eventually said, “it’s something you should know, though.”
That puzzled her. “What?”
